Dreams

THE WAY OF THE GRAIL – SUPPLEMENTARY TEXTS – April 28, 2022

Czech original: Sny · cesta-gralu.cz

## THE FIRST DREAM

In my life, ever since childhood, much interesting experiencing has often come to me by way of dreams. Some of my dreams are so strikingly vivid that even years later I carry memories of certain moments in them as sharp as the memories of my daytime, waking life.

In time I found that whenever I stood in some difficult situation in life and did not know which way to turn, help often came to me through a dream. From a certain vantage point I saw a similar happening, but in wider connections, and thanks to that I could then find understanding and a way out of the problem in ordinary life as well.

…

For a long time I wrestled within myself, and in essence I still wrestle, with the question of my work, of my path through life. A few years ago, at a certain phase of my life, two dreams came to me in quick succession. Dreams so vivid that they threw me off the rails for several days afterwards, and for many months that followed I searched for all that the experiencing in them was meant to tell me and how to grasp it all. These two dreams in particular then greatly influenced, and to this day still markedly influence, my life. The way I perceive what comes to me and how I then decide.

Although I can hardly express the colour, the depth and the force of the experiencing in words, I should nevertheless like to try to share these dreams with you. And at the end, in part, also what I have so far drawn from them up to the present day. Perhaps these pictures will help some of you as they helped me.

I should also like to apologise in advance to all who have no liking for the science-fiction or the action genre. In my youth I myself read a great deal of literature of this kind too, and I think that my brain set the following dreams in these surroundings because it is used to moving within them and understands them. What is essential, of course, are the wider principles contained in the pictures themselves.

The first dream had a format that was somewhat unusual even for me. It is five different pictures, following one after another.

First Act

I am standing with a small group of fighters on the top floor of a high-rise building, and with the last remnants of our strength we are beating back another wave of the attackers' onslaught. The floors below us are full of them, and now there is nowhere left to retreat. Above us there is no further storey.

That last wave of the onslaught was utterly exhausting. The skeletons, thin creatures wasted almost to the bone and without flesh, covered with skin as thin and yellowed as parchment, were, in contrast to the ape-like monsters, which were strong but otherwise rather dull, extremely cunning, and with their tactics they almost succeeded in breaking through our barricades at the entrances to the floor. The situation is already critically desperate, and we have only a short while before the enemies form ranks again and mobilise for another attack. Their hatred towards us seems to be boundless…

In that brief interval I go to survey the situation and come to the glazed outer wall of the building. Outside it is dim and raw, the low dark sky with its heavy clouds offers no consolation and stifles every hope. I cast my eyes down to the foot of the building and discover with horror that the ape-like monsters, driven by the craving to destroy us and tear us apart, have just found a new way to reach us. With great success they are climbing up the outer walls of the building! On top of that, an unbelievable number of them are pouring out of the dark, deep shadows below; they seem to be absolutely everywhere! They are unstoppable; with their new tactics and the influx of reinforcements they already feel their final success within reach. The skeletons at the entrances to the floor have now also thrown in their strength, and the last barriers, two large barricaded double doors, are beginning to give way for good…

After that everything went in quick succession.

There was no chance of defending ourselves successfully any longer. We drew back into the middle of the hall, gathered into a defensive formation and watched with horror as the last remnants of the barricades gave way. The enemies mingle together and pour in upon us…

… this is the end. I know it. There is no chance, there is no escape. This is our… my… death.

Full of horror I now inwardly resign myself, I give up.

The rest of my comrades in arms also see the destruction rolling in and turn to me in desperation: “Do it! Use it!”

What? What are they saying? I do not understand… “What am I to do?!” I ask.

“You know! Do it!!! Come on, hurry, quickly!” They are terrified to death and desperate just as I am, but evidently they know, indeed they are outright convinced, that I have at my disposal something that can still save our skins even at this moment. And they are counting on it!

But on WHAT? What is it supposed to be? I do not know! That frustration! That dread! A loathsome death, annihilation, is pouring in upon us, all hope is gone, my friends, my companions are counting on me … and I simply do not know. I do not know… I live through the deepest despair and futility. I have failed.

And now it is here. The end. They are upon us…

I close my eyes. I did what I could. I can do no more. I am sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me, Love. Forgive me, Wisdom. Forgive me, Truth. Forgive me, Beauty. With you in my heart and for you I fought. I can do no more. This is my end. But I love you…

And suddenly, at the moment of the final surrender to death, but at the same time also to that purity of the higher principles, or rather to that which stands behind them, which is their source, a power filled me. A crystal-clear yet immense, mighty power. Glorious, boundless. A power glowing and resonating with pure, perfect Love and Wisdom. With something that cannot be put into words. With something that absolutely nothing can withstand which does not vibrate in accord with that power. A living Loving Wisdom which is the key to everything. For all that is, is out of it. Out of it everything grew, and to it everything is in the final reckoning subject.

That power permeated me and glowed mightily within me. It was glorious and pure, and I was infinitely happy that it was with me and that I was permitted to be with it. Never again do I want anything other than to be in harmony with it and to work with it!

I am filled with a power that nothing can withstand. For what can withstand the highest wisdom? Nothing!

I opened my eyes. I saw around our desperate little group the countless multitude of loathsome attackers, and I raised my arms. Arms full of Power. The Power radiated with its heat and streamed from my palms. A Power that did not belong to me, only I could become a part of it, and which by its purity threw back and swept away the attacking skeletons and ape-like monsters like dry leaves before the wind…

And then suddenly a cut.

Second Act

I am standing on the roof of a strange, interesting and sprawling building. It looks like something between an ancient church, a monastery and a castle. An impressive articulation, towers and turrets, galleries, bay windows…

As in many other dreams, now too I perceive someone at my side. He stands slightly in the background, quite inconspicuously, he does not disturb and does not intervene, but I feel that he is experiencing it with me and is, so to speak, in the same boat with me. I feel from him a certain support and inner accord, but I do not see him. I cannot describe him at all. He is like a shadow.

Suddenly I notice that beneath one of the joints of two roof surfaces there is a kind of deformation. Over an area of about a metre the roof covering is bulging. It seems that moisture has probably been penetrating the roof structure here for a long time and it is beginning to give way. This grieves me, because the whole building appears to me most impressive, it is built in a captivating style, and I perceive that it serves some higher, important and interesting purpose.

Curious, I lay my hand on the deformation in the covering, so as to try to find out by touch the state of the base beneath it.

But what is this … suddenly I realise with amazement and with joy that the power … hmm … I cannot name it better than the power of loving wisdom … is still with me. It lives within me. I am happy that I am still worthy of it.

And I find that this power gives me a very interesting capacity. It is hard to describe, but with my palm I “see”. I perceive everything that is inside, and with my inner sight I see the whole structure of the building. I see whatever catches my attention, and I understand the purpose and the meaning of every stone, every beam, every structural element in relation to the whole. It is an unbelievably wonderful feeling.

Moreover I feel the imprint of wisdom from the building itself. The deep wisdom of the one who decided to build this building for that lofty purpose. The building serves and benefits the whole neighbourhood. I feel the wisdom of the one to whom the building of this edifice was entrusted. He knew exactly what he was doing and why he was doing it. Every hand that took part in the building with its work knew it. And they all did it with love and joy, because they drew from the living Wisdom.

Now I also see exactly the extent of the damage at that place. I see the cause and I know absolutely exactly what needs to be done.

I perceive and experience wisdom. The wisdom that runs through the whole building, the wisdom that enables me to understand it, the wisdom thanks to which I know exactly what to do.

I perceive and experience the power. The power that enables my hands to see, the power that makes them able to do exactly what is right and needful…

I give thanks for all of it!

And again suddenly a cut.

Third Act

I am walking through a spacious building. It has several floors and long, wide corridors with many rooms and halls.

It gives a noble impression, but not an excessively ostentatious one. Something like a fine monastery or a more modest manor residence. It is quite probable that I am inside that building on whose roof I discovered the damage. I walk about and look at everything with interest. Everything is nicely ordered, functional and light. Even so there are hidden nooks here that give a strangely mysterious impression.

Under this impression I give way to my curiosity at one such place, and in a bend of the corridor, in a kind of arcade, I venture to explore what lies behind a door of massive wood studded with ironwork. No one is watching me, I have so far met with no restriction and no obstacle. I try to open it and it works, it is not locked.

It seems to be merely a kind of storeroom with shelves and racks full of all sorts of things which evidently have found no use at the moment. At the back, in the stone wall, there is only a small ventilation window, and it is dim in here.

At the back, on one of the racks, I see that something is not in order, something there has been strewn about and I want to set it straight. But when I take hold of a toppled object, something ugly suddenly springs out like lightning from behind the shadow behind the rack, furiously digs its claws into my arm and bites into my palm with its sharp teeth.

With my other hand, still free, I reflexively catch the creature by the throat in defence and find that it is one specimen of a skeleton of smaller stature. Probably the cowardly and treacherous wretch ran away from the fight the other day when things got hot, and now it is hiding.

I feel that I have strength enough to rid myself of it with one proper squeeze of my hand, that I would easily crush its neck like a dry twig.

But suddenly I again discover within me the presence of that wondrous loving wisdom and its immense living power. And in its light I suddenly see this small twisted creature in all its “greatness”. All at once I understand who it is. But I understand it in an entirely different dimension from any I would have been capable of on my own until now. I now know exactly what kind of being it is. I know what they were meant to be and could have been. I know why they are not. And what is the most wondrous thing of all, I know exactly what happened to this particular creature and to its path through life, what formed it and what brought it to the point of hanging at this moment from my arm with its teeth dug into my flesh.

Still with amazement I see what useful thing was to have grown out of this twisted, furious creature wasted to the bone, and it is incredible – I know exactly what it needs at this moment in order that it too may come to that knowledge itself. The strength in my palm, my own strength, which with one movement could easily have rid the world of that ugly, harm-doing little creature, was replaced by that incredible power of wise love, and through my palm it streamed mightily into its innermost being.

And it recognised and understood…

I let it go, it let me go. In an instant it was off in a cloud of dust and gone.

Again a cut.

Fourth Act

I find myself in the same surroundings, in the same building, but now I am somehow more settled here, as though I already belonged here.

The local majordomo comes to me and reports that there is some important delegation at the entrance gate and that it insistently demands my immediate presence.

Our relationship with the majordomo rather puzzles me. I perceive that we bear towards each other a strange mixture of friendly affection, mutual esteem and great respect. As though we were at the same time colleagues working together, and yet he took me for the one who stands above him. This surprises me, because it is I who perceive him as the steward of this strange and interesting place, and I myself feel that I am only a guest here. For that reason too it puzzles me what some delegation could want precisely from me.

I pass through the entrance hall and step out in front of the gate. Here three tall skeletons are waiting. They are dressed in some kind of peculiar uniforms and give the impression of military dignitaries. And so indeed they are.

They announce to me that they have assembled an enormous army which at this moment is deployed everywhere in the near vicinity. They have come, they say, because they have learned that I am holding one of their comrades prisoner here, and they have come for him. I am to hand him over at once, and woe betide me if they find that he has been badly treated.

It dawns on me that the tiny runt whom I had the honour of meeting in the storeroom was manipulated here by a calculating ruse as an unwitting puppet, so as to serve as a scapegoat and to become a pretext for precisely this purpose. So that there would be a legitimate reason to attack us. They counted outright on my reacting, in the confrontation with him, as naturally as anyone else would, and in the end simply crushing the little skeleton.

Despite a strong initial tremor of uncertainty at the threat of encirclement by a destroying army, I find with relief that that loving wisdom still blazes within me just as mightily, and I again let myself be led by it.

Emphatically, yet calmly, I explain to them that the little goblin received obliging help and was set free. But of course they have their aim, so they express doubts about it and try to continue with their intrigues. But at that, in my palms, for a short while, for a mere small moment, that power wells up with which I would again be able to sweep away their ranks, and they are lightly brushed by its breath.

More is not needed.

Yet in the purity of that power and in its undertone they do not sense a mere threat alone. The breath of wisdom and love works in such a way that they are able to understand far more in it. The foolishness and the null futility of their original endeavour. And above all – they gained esteem and strong respect towards this power. Not out of fear alone. Just as with the little goblin, the loving wisdom was able with them too to work in exactly that way, so that these creatures understood something for themselves and have now taken the first step towards a change of their attitudes…

They depart and withdraw their ranks. I know that they will not return here. Quite certainly not with hostile intentions.

And again a quick cut.

Fifth, Last Act

I am back in the building, in some larger hall, and suddenly a guest arrives. I find him congenial, but I clearly feel from him a kind of higher authority.

He brings with him a woman whom, however, I also do not know.

He informs me that thanks to the way I conducted myself in the battle with the skeletons and the apes, and thanks also to my conduct and my attitude in the subsequent events, I am permitted to remain henceforth in this beautiful building, and that it is hereby given into my stewardship, together even with its immediate surroundings.

For this purpose that woman who has been standing at his side until now has also been brought here. For with the widening of the meaning of my stay here there naturally comes also a widening of the kinds of activity needed for a right working as a whole. It will therefore be necessary for us to stand side by side and to complement each other. Each in his own kind and in his own way, yet in harmonious cooperation.

We are introduced to each other. She is a person new here, as I am. Earlier she was a recognised stage actress, but she left that career and now goes another way.

We are probably inwardly alike in many things, and I perceive that it ought to work well, but even so I am at this moment somewhat taken aback by the turn of events. It is new to me.

The man leads us outside and shows us the surroundings in which we shall be able to work. But during the tour of the lovely and interesting countryside I am already waking up…

*******

As I have already mentioned, for several days afterwards I was “catching my breath” from the force of what I was able to live through within myself in those few pictures. Never before had I experienced a connection with so wondrous, mighty and living a power. I know that I could describe it over a thousand pages and still would not be able to express adequately the insurmountable magnitude and yet the perfect delicacy of that power. It cannot be handed on, it can only be lived through…

Nevertheless, immediately afterwards a very strong experience again came to me through another dream. If I remember rightly, it was within the space of one, perhaps two weeks…

*********

## THE SECOND DREAM

I find myself in a vessel that is moving through deep dark space.

It is a relatively small spaceship. On board with me is a group of about fifteen other people. We are a mixed group of men and women in their full strength. Although looking back I cannot recall the individual persons, I feel that a common concern, a common attunement, a common goal binds me to the others.

A central computer operates and steers the ship. It is again hard to describe, but it is not a computer in the ordinary sense of the word. It is in essence a conscious machine; the whole ship is in its way conscious, as if alive. And what is more, hidden in the computer, in its “consciousness”, is a rare, unique treasure.

All of us, the whole group with our ship, are immeasurably far from our home, which is nowhere in sight. For a long time now we have been sailing through surroundings that are alien and hostile to us. Not in the sense that anything is attacking us deliberately, but they are somehow … other.

For a kind of crookedness, a deformation, permeates everything. Everything is in a strange way inwardly clouded, poisoned; nothing is as it rightly ought to be.

And here is the other thing that binds all of us on board together. Our central computer, our ship, which bears us through endless space, carries within it the well-guarded treasure already mentioned. It is a sample of the right “code”. Of the pure code. Of the code, or perhaps of a kind of fundamental principle which everything must have within it that wants to unfold and to live lastingly and soundly. As it was intended and as it is meant to be. In its essence it is the key to everything. This code is an inseparable part of the ship. The ship itself is a unique, rare living sample of the “right”.

This code binds everyone on board. For each of us also carries it in some form corresponding to our personalities. Each of us is different, to be sure, but this we have in common.

Now I understand that this is precisely why we are here, for the confrontation of everything crooked with the principle of the pure.

…

I am with the others in the control room and suddenly I am called before the terminal of the central computer. I find that I am being sent out on some mission.

…

Now I find myself on firm ground. The surrounding landscape is lit by a strangely dull, soft glow. As though the sun were indeed shining brightly high in the sky, but through a yellowish dense haze. I see a broad valley bounded by gentle hills, in the middle of which lies a strange towered town.

I have a guide beside me. He seems to me like someone “from among us” who, however, has already been here for a long time on some mission of his own.

We come to the edge of that strange town. My guide leads me along a broad road lined with low stone walls and sparsely growing stunted trees. They seem to me like wild apple trees. Behind them I already see the first of the tall, massive houses. I have never seen anything like it.

The houses are oval in ground plan, very tall and robust, of many storeys, tapering gradually with their height into the shape of a cone.

The streets are deserted, yet the remarkable houses are full of people. I see them right through the walls, because the cones seem to be built entirely of dull, murkily yellowed glass.

My guide shows me that each of the houses is inhabited by people devoted to some single common interest. There are truly many such houses in the town. Some houses are ordinary in the occupation of their inhabitants, from the most varied fields of culture, business and the like; others are downright obscure, and some, from my point of view, even outright criminal. I remember that one of those tall houses was, to my disgust, inhabited by people who devoted themselves exclusively to matters surrounding the production and distribution of drugs. I do not much understand how all this can function side by side like that, but it is not important at this moment.

Now my guide takes me into one of those houses. I no longer remember what particular field of interest it was about here, but I know that it was something quite ordinary.

I am standing below on the lowest floor, and looking upward I discover with amazement that the building has an impressive atrium through its whole height, with a central staircase. Despite the number of people inhabiting this building and despite the number of floors, the whole glass building is still translucent to my sight. It is a very strange perception.

But I perceive that the slightly murky colouring, the dull yellow tone of the whole building, indeed of all the buildings, of this whole town, is given by that crookedness. Absolutely everything is inwardly poisoned, everything is built upon the wrong code. Only no one sees it, no one perceives it. To everyone everything seems absolutely in order and normal.

I make my way up to the higher and the highest floors. I observe the people through the whole building and see that these people live through their utterly ordinary, humdrum everyday sorrows and joys. They have their goals and dreams which they strive for, which they pursue. They even have their lofty ideals, which they uphold quite sincerely and for which they fight with full conviction and commitment.

A fairly simple hierarchy prevails here. The higher the floor, the greater the abilities of its inhabitants and the better their standing. A better life, greater advantages and also influence over the floors below. Everyone here strives, according to his possibilities and abilities, to work his way up as high as he can.

Only they do not see what I see and perceive. That inside their yellowed building everything is murkily yellowed. They themselves too. Their joy is yellowed. Their sorrow is yellowed. Their understanding of success is yellowed. Even the understanding of their purest ideals is yellowed. And even the best from the highest floors, who really quite sincerely think that they are doing the very best they can for others and for their business, understand it in the end in a yellowed way and thereby create everything murkily yellow again. For all their very best effort they are not able to leave the framework of the yellowed pattern. All here have wholly accepted the crooked principle as their own nature, and everything they feel, the way they think, what they live through and what they do is in the end crooked, unsound… murkily yellowed.

Now I am standing at the top of the building and looking down upon it from above. I also see the rest of the town and all the other buildings, in which things in essence work exactly the same way.

Various groupings of people who have joined together in some field of work close to them. The most varied buildings of the most varied orientations… but all of them built from their very foundation, and clouded through and through, by the wrong code. The people in them are not able to create anything that would step over the yellowed boundary. Above all they are not able to imagine at all that anything of the kind should be possible, nor do they want it.

I strongly experience the immense contrast between the resonance of that pure code within me and what I perceive from the people and their buildings below me. Everything does hold together and is fully functional, but I know that in the event of a confrontation with the right code everything here will collapse and fall to pieces.

Now something suddenly comes to me, a kind of being whom I do not see, but whose great power I perceive. It stands behind me and above me. It is something that has power over this town, something that wants this town to function in this way. The wrong code, which all here have accepted as their own, is its work. That being set this order and this cycle of things as it suits it, as it pleases it itself.

The pure code within me, the resonance of how things are rightly meant to be, that small grain of Truth, makes it uneasy and irritates it.

The being flatters me. It says that it perceives in me a great strong fighter and an exceptionally capable leader, and it lays before me a great mighty sword. I perceive that a truly great might radiates from it. The being tells me that for the sake of that strength it sees in me it is offering me this sword as a gift. With it I shall be able to rule the whole town. All those most capable ones who have worked their way up to the highest floors of their buildings, together with all those who stand beneath them, will with it be subject to my will.

I look at the murky town being offered. I look at the sword being offered. With my own strength, which thanks to that being I now see, and with that immense might of the sword being offered, I could work sheer wonders here! None of those below could set themselves against me in resistance!

But suddenly I slowly begin to perceive that the power from the sword is murky too. Yes, the sword itself is dully yellowed. It dawns on me that at the moment when I accepted the sword and the rule over the town, over the leaders of the towers, I would be accepting this being's game. Its principle. I would perhaps be a ruler, but a murky ruler in a murky town.

I would lose the grain of the pure code within me. Of that right principle which truly rules. It rules the whole of creation, however, and in the end it will rule here too. This being as well. But in quite another way than it has taken it into its head to rule itself.

I refuse the sword and the rule over the town, and I feel from the being a violent wave of displeasure and hatred. But it is all the same to me, because I know that, from the very nature of things, nothing can truly withstand the power of the pure code for long…

With this I wake from the dream.

***********

## CONCLUSION

It is now about two years since I dreamed these dreams.

In the first phase, above all thanks to the first dream, I lived through an unbelievable inner enthusiasm. Not only that I had been able to live through something so unbelievably strong and wondrous. But also that I am capable of something like that. That I can join with such a power and work with it. Because I am convinced that it was not “only a dream”. It was a real power, I touched pure, truly living principles, and glorious things happened. I overflowed with enthusiasm, I had the inner certainty that I could work in this way.

I even tried laying my hands on various things. After all, some people do work in a similar way, I told myself.

But nothing happened…

I soon found that the way used in the dream simply does not work for me, and I began to examine what it was all meant to tell me. Then, in ordinary daily life, in various situations, I noticed that now and then I register moments when a tone I already know resonates within me ever so softly, ever so quietly. The quiet, delicate tone of loving wisdom.

It dawned on me that this is what I am to strive for. Not to work miracles or supposedly great deeds in the name of the Light. But to live my everyday life so that every moment in which I turn to my work, to other people, to rest, every stirring of my mind, every emotion, my whole attunement should resonate in connection with the loving wisdom as I was permitted to come to know it.

If I can do truly “great” deeds, they must grow out of this. But then I evidently shall not perceive them as great at all. They will simply be natural.

And of course I also found how far I am from that ideal out of the dream. How much work it will still cost me to draw at least a little nearer to it.

In time I also remembered that I had in fact already lived through a situation in which, sadly through my own fault, I let myself be driven to the utmost extremity and lived through the hopeless nearness of the end of my life. At the very least in the form in which I had lived it until then. The loss of everything that had been close to me until that time, of what had value for me, the loss of all my precious positions. And that at the moment when I stood on my imaginary top floor and was already resignedly closing my eyes before the approaching end, there came to me then, in my distress, a brief but saving touch of the living wisdom.

Through it I inwardly realised that everything I was living through was only a lesson, following lawfully from my earlier mistakes and weaknesses.

Above all, however – and that was probably the most fundamental message at that moment – there arose in me the certainty that absolutely every situation has its right solution. And that this is exactly what it is all about here, the whole time. To understand, to learn, to grow on it and to go further.

That experiencing gave me trust and strength then. I raised my head, drew breath, and with my hands really began to scatter the skeletons which had already slowly begun to tear at me.

We are in a school wondrously wisely and lovingly perfectly arranged. I am quite certain that this holds for every single person in any situation of life. There is always a way out.

It dawned on me that the moments were interesting too when, for example, problems arose at work, whether of a technical or of an interpersonal nature. In an objective endeavour for the best solution, if I rid myself of my personal wishes, I was able to perceive the wider connections of the problem, and either by my opinion or by my attitude I was able to benefit the matter.

At those times I in fact also “laid” my hand on the damaged place, I saw the connections and found what was needed for the recovery.

It was not as magnificent as in the dream, but it was there – a small grain of loving wisdom, as I was able at that moment to receive it and to pass it on.

And I also observed what a fundamental influence the second dream has upon me.

Its force is not so radiantly sweeping and inspiring. It is perhaps more inconspicuous, yet very, very fundamental. It still disconcerts me a little, because, without my realising it at once, it changed my previous understanding of all human earthly … if you will pardon me, drudgery.

I do not wish to claim that I am a heroic fighter bearing the radiant key of purity. But I have found that I am now unable to take inward part in the shared experiencing of society's problems as those closest to me, my family and my friends, do. The threat to democracy and to stability in Europe, the global pandemic, the economic crisis, wars, climate change and much else leave me inwardly cold. I am not sure whether that is entirely right, but I simply cannot help perceiving them as the yellowed problems of a yellowed house which must in the end fall apart anyway. I shall not repair it, that is not even possible.

I can only go further and on my path try, inwardly and outwardly for the others… to sound with that right tone. Here and now.

After living through several really striking events that happened to me in the year following these dreams, I understood, thanks to them too, that absolutely everything that happens to every single one of us comes to us along exactly appointed courses and brings, in perfect wisdom, exactly what each single one of us needs. Down to the smallest, most incredible details. Not that I had not read of it before, but understanding in the living through has quite another weight.

But most often we are not able to see this. For all our thinking running along learned tracks, and because of our own preoccupation with humdrum yellowed problems, we do not recognise the higher wisdom in the details of everyday life, which continually lead us lovingly upward.

We are not able to refrain from squeezing the necks of our little skeletons when they bite into our hand. And then we have to deal with the fact that our domain is encircled by an army whose strength we have no chance of repelling. At the end of our tether we then desperately entreat upward for help. But if we learned to listen to the loving wisdom that governs this whole Creation, we should then not have to deal with such problems at all.

So, for all the boiling into which our world is coming, I try somehow to grapple with it all. To overcome my little self and to be of as much benefit as possible to the people around me and to my surroundings in my humdrum everyday life. In thoughts, in emotions, in deeds.

I am with myself every day, so I know how much hard work it is. But thanks to these dreams of mine too I know that there is really, really something worth fighting for.

So I wish you all beautiful dreams, and still more beautiful waking, friends.

M.M.